


Don't Let Go

by JAKQ7111



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorolix Weekend 2020, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Orphans, Patricide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAKQ7111/pseuds/JAKQ7111
Summary: When Felix needs to talk with someone to process his emotions, he turns to the one person he can trust with his vulnerability.Written for Dorolix Weekend Day 1 Prompt: Sweet
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Don't Let Go

Spring had finally arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery. The Black Eagle Strike Force had just claimed a key victory at the fortress of Arianrhod, making a sizable dent in the Kingdom's military forces. Most of the Adrestian army was busy celebrating their win, holding a feast in the dining hall and frolicking in the warm Great Tree Moon weather. Felix, however, was in no mood for merriment.

When evening finally fell, the swordmaster found himself standing outside the door of a certain someone's dorm room. A certain someone whose counsel he was seeking. Muscles tense and breath shaky, he rapped on the door.

“Who is it?” a telltale singsong voice called from behind the door.

“Felix.” he curtly replied. “Now let me in. I need to...talk with you.”

The door opened slowly, revealing Dorothea wearing a pink silk nightgown, emerald eyes wide with concern.

“Goodness, Felix! You look horrible!” the songstress uttered, opening her door fully to make room for her haggard companion. “Please, come in! I'll get tea going. I still have half a tin of that Almyran pine tea you love so much!”

Felix simply huffed as he stepped into Dorothea's room, taking a seat on the edge of her bed and burying his head in his hands. He _really_ did not want to be here, but he knew he needed to talk to someone, and there were few people he trusted with his vulnerability as much as her.

Once the tea was finished brewing, Dorothea poured a cup for Felix and sat beside him, laying a gentle hand on his back. “You never come over just to talk!” she commented. “Usually, you just want to skip straight to sparring...or bedroom activities. Now tell me, what's on your mind?”

In truth, she could probably figure out what was bothering her dear friend. It had been no more than a day since Arianrhod, where Felix fought and killed his own father in pitched combat. As much as the swordsman tried to put on an air of stoicism, she knew it had to be just painful for him. 

Felix let out a heavy sigh, shifting slightly to lean into Dorothea's touch. He refused to meet her gaze as he spoke, eye contact always making him more anxious.

“It's just...” he stammered, “uh...” the swordsman wasn't a master of conversation in the best of times, and this was far from the best of times. He paused for a few seconds to think of how to begin.

“Dorothea. You're an orphan, right?” he asked, continuing to hold his head down.

“Yes, I am.” the songstress replied, nodding her head in confirmation. “I have been all my life. Why do you ask?” that last part being mostly a formality. She could tell what he wanted to ask her. She just wanted to let him say it himself.

“Well, uh...I guess I am too, now.” Felix mumbled into his hands. “My old man finally kicked it, and with my mom and Glenn being long gone...” he trailed off, giving way to another several seconds of silence. “Does it always feel like this?”

Dorothea pouted at the grieving swordsman, hand on his back moving slowly up and down in a small gesture of comfort. She honestly didn't know how to answer him right away, their situations being rather different. Unlike Felix, she never knew her parents, only hearing about them through gossip and rumors. In a sense, she didn't have that much to mourn. Still she thought about it, wanting to respond appropriately.

“Felix...” the brunette breathed, continuing to rub her companion's back. “I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through! I've always been an orphan, so I never got to know anything else. Manuela and the opera troupe are the closest thing I've ever known to a real family. For you to have lost your mom, brother, and now your dad like this, it must be absolutely painful! It's completely understandable that you're feeling a lot of things right now!”

“He's just an old man.” the swordsman snipped. “And he was in our way. Just...just one step closer to defeating Rhea and the boar.” his voice began to quaver as the memories of his father dying by his own hand came rushing back. “That's all there is to it! My conscience is clear!”

He began to thrash his arms around, knocking Dorothea's hand off of him. A growl escaped his mouth, opening into a bloodcurdling scream. His hands found their way into his hair, violently shaking as the tight topknot he always wore came undone, indigo locks falling wildly around his face.

All Dorothea could think to do was wrap her arms around her anguished companion, enveloping him in a tight, secure hug. He was normally so touch-averse, but hers was the exception.

“Oh, Felix.” the songstress sighed, rubbing circles onto the swordsman's back. “I'm so, so sorry. You can let it all out, now. You're safe here.”

Felix let out another pained scream as his body shook and hot tears fell from his golden hazel eyes. The battle-hardened swordmaster prided himself on his stoicism, not having cried in years. Not since he was thirteen, and his much-beloved older brother was taken from him in the infamous Tragedy of Duscur. Now, however, his defenses were all the way down and all he could do was sob violently into Dorothea's shoulder.

Dorothea, likewise, continued to squeeze her dear friend tightly as he let his emotions run their course. Her own eyes began to well up out of empathy for him, but she continued to focus her attention on comforting him, so she allowed the tears to fall freely from her emerald eyes.

No words were exchanged for minutes on end, Felix's sobs eventually quieting and his shaking body slowing down to a tired still. Once he seemed to have calmed down, Dorothea started to pull away from the bereaved swordsman, only to be met with resistance as Felix gripped her tighter.

“Don't let go.” he whispered, voice hoarse from screaming and sobbing.

Taking the hint, the songstress pulled him closer in, stroking his long, indigo locks and inhaling his musky scent. She would hold him all night if he asked. He was so important to her, and she just wanted to make sure he was alright.

“You're welcome to stay the night if you wish.” Dorothea offered, arms still wrapped snugly around Felix's toned shoulders. “I wouldn't want you to be alone tonight, and sometimes it helps just knowing there's someone with you as you go to sleep. We can even cuddle a little if you want, but it's entirely up to you.”

Felix simply grunted in approval of this plan, pulling out of Dorothea's arms in order to remove his gloves, boots, and heavy fur coat. Now just wearing his loosely-fitting tunic and trousers, he settled back down on the bed, laying on his side and getting under the covers. Dorothea followed suit, slipping under the blankets and wrapping her arms around the swordsman's waist, pulling him against her chest.

“Good night, Felix.” she breathed, nuzzling the nape of his neck. “Sweet dreams. Things will look better in the morning, I'm sure of it.”

After that, the couple drifted off into a peaceful sleep, curled up with one another as their breathing slowed. It may have been difficult to open up, but this was exactly what Felix needed to move through his grief. He'd find a way to thank Dorothea sooner or later.


End file.
